Uh . . . wait. Reverse that.
For those of you who don't know me well, I have to tell you I am a Dirt Head. A Plant Nerd. A perennial, foam-at-the-mouth, pull-me-in-at-night gardener. The months of April and May are torture for me. I WANT TO BE IN THE GARDEN. When it snows or rains, as it does frequently here during those months, I stand and the window and whine incessantly. It's rather pathetic.
I knew of this malady when I adopted kids. I knew there are 10 other months of the year when I could be a somewhat acceptable, caring, attentive mother-type but I knew May would be difficult. "Self-discipline," I say to myself. It's over whelming. I've dished out for myself a huge yard of delectable blooming plants that all need attention. "Feed me! Trim me! Transplant me! Divide me!" They all shout as I walk by to my car for yet another child-related appointment. "Quiet!" I shout back. I know you will be unbearably beautiful if I stop and take care of you before next month but you will just have to wait your turn! Jesus, is there some special reward for this sort of self sacrifice?
Us
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1 comment:
Two weekends ago, we put the young-uns to work turning beds, planting flowers, trimming rose bushes, etc. It was either do that and make your home look pretty or go get the dull rusty butterknife and let's do some organ donations :)
Felix
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